


Surstimuler

by jesuisherve



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Gen, Male Friendship, Platonic Male/Male Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-13 00:42:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesuisherve/pseuds/jesuisherve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will suffers from a panic attack at a crime scene and Hannibal is there to do damage control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surstimuler

**Author's Note:**

> I really don't ship Hannigram but if you want to interpret this fic as slashy go right on ahead. I think of them as strongly platonic.

When Jack Crawford called Will Graham to come down to a new crime scene, he did something unusual. He told Will to brace himself, the crime was particularly grisly. Jack was undoubtedly trying to be helpful yet the heads up made Will begin to fret. His mind ran to all the darkest places it could go. Every corner of his damaged psyche boiled over and presented horrifying image after horrifying image. 

The drive to the crime scene was tense. Will found himself yelling and honking the horn at the smallest inconveniences. He arrived onsite soon enough. Blue and red lights from police cars flashed in the morning haze. Crime scene technicians scurried about. Will made his way to the front door of the house where Jack, and Hannibal Lecter curiously enough, were waiting for him on the other side of the police tape.

“Jack, Hannibal,” Will ducked under the yellow tape, which Hannibal held up for him. Jack gave Will a sideways glance. He could see that the younger man was nervous. His eyes were darting more than usual and he looked pale.

“I think my warning did more harm than good,” Jack admitted, “and I apologize for that. I didn’t mean to. But it is pretty bad in there. I don’t want you to get in too deep.”

Will cast a questioning glance at the house. “I have been in there already,” Hannibal said, “it is gruesome.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but why are you here?” Will asked.

Jack made a motion for them to start walking into the house. “I asked for him to come. I promised that I wouldn’t let you get to close. I wanted Doctor Lecter to be here as support in case it gets a little overwhelming for you.”

The rank smell of blood was thick. Will gagged. It was hot in the house, which magnified the smell. Will forced himself to breath from his mouth, which turned out to be almost as bad as smelling. He felt like he was inhaling actual blood from the air.

“The mailman discovered them,” Jack said. His voice sounded plugged. He had stopped breathing through his nose too. “The front door was open part way so he decided to check if everything was okay. He found the victims in the kitchen.”

Jack pointed to show which direction the kitchen was. They were standing in the front landing of the house. There were two sets of stairs immediately in front of them. One set led to a basement level and the other set, which Jack was pointing at, went up. Will climbed the stairs. At the top of them, to his right there was a sitting room area. It had two couches, both facing a wide-screen television. To his left there was a hallway, which was undoubtedly where the bedrooms and main bathroom were located. Facing him was the kitchen. The main part of the kitchen was blocked off by a wall of the sitting room but Will could see a large blood spatter on the tile flooring.

He walked forward, conscious that Hannibal and Jack were right behind him. He could hear some voices in the kitchen. Probably gather evidence and taking photos. The presence of other people already in the room took some of the edge off his fear. It would be easier to look at the crime scene if it felt clinical and professional, rather than walking straight into the untouched aftermath of a brutal murder.

Seeing was worse than smelling. It took a split second for Will to take in everything that was in the kitchen. It took him another split second to push past Hannibal and Jack and bolt from the house.

He flew out the front door and ducked under the tape, almost tripping on his own feet. He pelted around the corner of the house, out of the line of sight of the FBI and police officers who were milling about. He found himself at a gate which led to the backyard. His gorge was rising and he couldn’t run anymore. The panic was clouding his thoughts.

Will leaned with his hands on his knees and vomited in the grass.

Something touched him. Will flinched but it was only Hannibal. He had put a hand on Will’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Will croaked. His throat was burning. 

_eyes the eyes were gone no more eyelids the lips had been torn off bite marks were they bitten off the tongues were nailed to the wall oh god they were all children no adults this wasn’t a family all children so many children the bodies are mutilated and they were experimented with and posed like mannequins oh god the eyelids were gone the tongues on the wall nailed to the wall fingernails pulled out oh god_

“Will.” Hannibal’s hand was still on his shoulder. His voice was commanding. It brought him back to the present. Will retched again. Hannibal rubbed his back soothingly as he continued to vomit in the grass.

He finished soon enough. There was nothing left in his stomach to bring up. He dry-heaved a few times and the strain left him panting. Tears were streaming from Will’s eyes. He wiped them with the back of his hand. Hannibal offered him a handkerchief from his pants pocket. Will shook his head. He spit on the grass and stood up straight. His limbs were trembling from the physical effort it had taken.

Why did this crime scene, of everything he had experienced before, make him react so badly? He had never had to leave that way before. It was humiliating and worrying.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hannibal looked at him with his piercing eyes. He was so flat and calm. No wonder Abigail often sought him out for comfort. It was hard to feel panicky while Hannibal simply was not.

“Children.” Will managed to stutter. “They were children. An adult did those things to those kids! I don’t want to go back in there. If I go back in there, Jack or some techie is going to tell me more and more terrible stuff that was done to those poor kids! I can’t handle that today, not right now. I can’t.”

Hannibal just kept looking at him, saying nothing. His gaze was no longer calming. It was starting to make Will feel antsy. Will made a frustrated noise and went to pass the psychiatrist. He was going to head back into the house to try again. Hannibal grabbed his forearm. His grip was incredibly strong. 

He pulled him in and hugged him.

Will’s mind went blank. What was happening was improbable and surreal. 

Hannibal was warm. His arms wrapped around him and held him tightly. Will leaned his cheek against the other man’s shoulder and let himself be hugged. It was exactly what he needed and he hadn’t even known it. The solid physical contact put a stopper on his racing thoughts. Hannibal’s heart beat was steady. His breathing was quiet and even. Will imagined absorbing his neutral energy and felt himself calming even more.

“Okay,” Will murmured. “I’m fine now.”

Hannibal released him. He dipped his head in a slight nod. “Excessive sensory exposure,” he said. “You needed to be anchored. Sometimes, especially with people who are observant and imaginative, too much stimulation causes panic.”

Something pinged in Will’s head. He was right. Jack had inadvertently caused him to get hyped up mentally, the overheated house and the horrific murder scene had put him in an out of control spiral. Now he was back in control. He could go back to work and be in one piece by the end of it.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

The corners of Hannibal’s mouth turned up in one of his understated smiles. “Of course.”


End file.
